I solemnly swear that I will never entitle a post My So-Called Anything. I don't really remember seeing the show that's responsible for so many So-Called Things. I think it happened when I was in college, when I was too busy doing other stuff that seemed really important at the time but in retrospect seems much less so.
Speaking of college, this weekend, to celebrate my wife's 35th birthday, we're headed back to our alma mater. She's a huge fan of rough-hewn folkie Greg Brown. I am also a fan of Greg's music, but my wife is much more a trufan, perhaps onnacounta the sex appeal thing.
I've never felt the be-true-to-your-school loyalty that some people feel for the school where they earned their sheepskins. Being kind of a loner by nature, I was inclined to find alienation even in the warmest settings, and I found some in college. But I'm anxious to get back to the town, which is about 60% Main Street USA and about 40% enlightened midwestern college town. At least that's how it felt ten years ago. Mostly, I'm anxious to get back to the river, which flows from woods and bluffs outside of town, past the college, through the town, and then wanders off into the sticks again.
My most indelible memories of my college years involve this river: paddling it with the babe who is now my wife, fishing it, wading in it, and driving the gravel roads that criss-cross it.
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